


The Unkindness of Nothingness

by coruscantguard (nadiavandyne), nadiavandyne



Series: 2020 Fic Challenges [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Clone Trooper-Typical Identity Issues, Commander Fox Week, Dissociation, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mind Control, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Ideation, but also..., its not ALL sad lads it's just MOSTLY sad lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/coruscantguard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/nadiavandyne
Summary: This is what Fox will not remember:His gun is set to stun.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: 2020 Fic Challenges [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810486
Comments: 15
Kudos: 165





	The Unkindness of Nothingness

1.

_A mind trick is a Force ability that lets it's user control the actions, thoughts, and beliefs of another being._

This is what Fox will not remember:

His gun is set to stun.

 _Can't say I blame you, for wanting revenge on a traitor,_ his brain hisses at him as Rex rounds on him in the warehouse. But the second half of the statement never comes. General Skywalker is furious and self-assured in a way that reminds him all too much of Chancellor Palpatine's rare moments of rage, but he never pulls his lightsaber, never moves towards arrest. He doesn't need to, though. He has the Chancellor's ear. That's as good as a death sentence for anyone who's foolish enough to earn his ire.

And considering the expression on General Skywalker's face, Fox thinks it's safe to say that he's earned the man's ire.

 _She's killed three clones_ , he had said, back then, and his voice hadn’t wavered, steadfast in his knowledge and stance. Now Rex is saying something— yelling it, but no, not Rex, he's never needed to yell, he's just speaking— and he's killed a brother. Oh, kark. He's killed a brother.

Fox looks down at his gun. It's set to stun. He knows it is, he had checked it before entering the warehouse. He’s not a _cadet_.

But—

 _Hut-uun_ , his brain whispers. _Coward_.

He closes his eyes, runs his finger over the switch and— there. There. His eyes may deceive him, but his hands do not, and his gun is undeniably set to kill.

There's no use denying it. What could he even say? _I didn't mean to_ means nothing when there's a dead body on the ground, _I thought it was on stun_ is nothing but an excuse.

He feels... disconnected from his body, almost. Like he’s not quite all there, like half of him is floating in the wind, and the other half just doesn’t exist anymore. He might be in shock. He knows that his skin feels clammy, and that his breathing is going too fast. He knows that his heart beats, and it’s beating too quickly. That... sounds like shock. Probably. Maybe. He sways, and—

Fox just killed a brother.

Oh, _Force_ , he just killed a brother.

Kark.

2.

_However, beings that are particularly defiant can oftentimes resist mind tricks._

Three weeks later, Wolffe comms him when he’s sitting alone in his office, reviewing Scipio for what feels like the thousandth time, but is probably only the sixth.

He can decline the call. He should decline the call. He has work to do, he always has work to do, and he knows that putting it off will cause him more stress in the future. He can talk to Wolffe later, he should choose his work, choose the closest thing he has to a life, push down the ache in his heart and do his karking job.

But he can also accept the call. He can slack off, ignore his own responsibilities just because he’s having a bad day, and take a moment for himself. He can do what his mind is saying is weak, do what he shouldn’t do, take a break despite the fact that when he last took a break _he got Thorn killed—_

(The break had been something more akin to Naak finally losing her ever-present calm and ordering him to _stay in medical for 48 hours, or so help the Force_ , but... semantics. It’s a good thing that Naak had made him lie down, anyway, the timing was just less than ideal. Still, it could have been prevented if he hadn’t decided to forego his own functionality, and that’s what really kills him about the whole mess. He _shouldn’t_ have needed to take a break, but he did, and Thorn died because of it.)

His choice here is accept or decline. His choice here is between doing what he knows Thorn would want him to do, and listening to the part of his mind that’s crying out at him that he must pay some kind of penance for his rapidly multiplying number of sins. He can think of the flames he’ll most likely die in, think of the fate that awaited every brother before him, or he can think instead of the water they came from and the stars that await them. He can bypass the wishes of a dead man, or listen to the whispers of the stars, the voices of those now gone.

He can accept the call, or he can hit decline.

“Commander Wolffe,” Fox greets, when Wolffe shows up on the holocomm. “Well, you’re looking better than last time.”

3.

_A powerful Force user can oftentimes make a defiant being to bow to their will by using more invasive techniques to get inside their victim’s head._

Fox used to know Wolffe like the back of his hand.

They’re batchmates, of _course_ he used to know him so well. They’d grown up at each other’s side, butting heads at every turn and sneaking around Kamino together. At one point in time, he and Wolffe had been so in sync that they were oftentimes (mistakenly) thought to be twins.

They haven’t been that in sync for years now, though.

Still, he knows that Wolffe used to like the color red, but doesn’t anymore. He knows that Wolffe is a menace when it comes to hand-to-hand. He knows that he’s got one of the best Jedi Generals in the entire kriffing GAR, knows that the Wolfpack wears grey for mourning, knows that Wolffe wants to protect, knows that he’s good at protecting.

But with the way the war is going, with how little he’s gotten to see Wolffe these last few years, he doesn’t know much else.

He does know Wolffe, though. And Wolffe knows him. Wolffe knows him infuriatingly well. He’s annoyingly good at seeing through Fox’s bullshit, which is probably why he ended up accepting the call instead of hitting decline.

Wolffe greets him with the curt reminder that, “last time I was in a _hospital bed_.” He follows that up with, “And I can’t say the same to you. Fox, you know you look like osik, right?”

“I’m _aware_ , yes, thank you.”

“Osik that got kriffing stomped on, ground into the dirt, and left out to get stomped on again? ”

It’s, hands down, the bluntest, rudest thing a brother has said to him since the warehouse, and Fox finds his lips twitching up despite himself, despite the fact that he really should be offended, or at least annoyed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Oh, go _kark_ yourself.”

4.

_Concussions and similar head traumas are known to increase a being's susceptibility to mind tricks._

“I meant to do it,” Fox says, _insists_ , when they finally get around to broaching the topic. He says it because that is what he knows, that is the _only_ thing that he knows, that is what he’s been clinging to to keep from drowning. “I meant to kill him. I know that.”

Wolffe’s expression is unreadable, but he thinks there might be something akin to concern in his eye, which is just weird. “How do you know that,” Wolffe demands, and the lack of inflection makes it sound more like an order than a genuine question.

“I don’t— ” Fox breaks off, looks to the side, because Force, he’s tired, and _where’s that silver tongue now, Commander? You **know** what happens to clones that falte_r. “I just do, okay? I do. I can’t put it into words, but...”

He can see Wolffe’s eyes narrow through the comm, practically _feel_ what Fox would bet is a combination of disbelief and disgust, and wants to both back away from it and submerge himself within. All he’s gotten from Stone recently is worry, and all he’s gotten from Thire is a mixture of caution and avoidance. He feels like he’s walking on tiptoes around the entire Guard now, like they’re just _waiting_ for him to crack and lose it.

Honestly, they probably are. _Fox_ certainly is.

“And you’re okay with that?” Wolffe asks icily, because that’s how Wolffe cares, how he worries— with a sharp edge masking it. Fox knows what he’s really asking, anyway.

_Are you really okay with not knowing why? With having no context for this bone-deep certainty you have regarding your intent? Are you really okay with just nodding and believing?_

“I have to be,” Fox hears himself admit, and it’s distant from him in a way that it shouldn’t be, uncomfortable on his tongue in a way that it _can_ ’ _t_ be. He doesn’t know how to explain to Wolffe that if he doesn’t have this, he has nothing, not his life, or his name, or his job, or his brain. “There’s nothing else.”

...And Force, that’s depressing to think about.

“Really?” Wolffe asks, and his judgement is clear in his tone. Fox almost wants to sob in relief when he hears it, because finally, _finally_ , there’s a brother that’s not treating him like he’s glass that's about to break.

(Rex doesn’t count for that one. He made his thoughts on their status as brothers pretty clear back in the warehouse. Fox might not be the best at letting things go, but even he can admit that pushing Rex any further with this one is a monumentally bad idea.)

(Torrent is currently deployed, anyway. It’s physically impossible for him to randomly run into Rex and act on that bad idea, say something that’ll earn him a punch in the face, even if the self-destructive part of himself kind of wants to.)

“ _Really_?” Wolffe demands again after he lets the silence stretch on for too long. Fox blinks at the question, then blinks again. Right. Answers. He should answer Wolffe, probably. There's got to be a suitable answer to that question somewhere in his brain. He just has to find it.

He just has to find it.

5.

_It's also been theorized that being in a state of shock can increase a being’s susceptibility to mind tricks, but this has not been confirmed by any studies._

“If I’m not—” Fox finally makes himself say, but he then breaks off, not liking the way the words curl up in his chest, the way they taste bitter in his mouth. It takes a few moments to force himself to start again. “If I’m not okay with it, if I start to doubt it, then. Then that entire day is a haze. That’s the only part of it that really sticks out. That, that I really remember.”

Wolffe’s eyebrows scrunch together. Fox continues. These words aren’t the right words, but they’re the only ones he’s managed to find, so they have to be the right words.

“I think I may have dissociated during it. I mean, I know I was in shock afterwards. But. But the entire day feels just... wrong, when I think about it.”

“Have you—”

“And if I’m dissociating badly enough that I’m losing whole days, and people are getting killed because of it,” he says, cutting Wolffe off, because he has to say this all at once, or else he’ll never say it. He knows that, knows himself, knows that he’ll tuck it away in a corner of his brain and leave it there to rot, because he’s karking _scared_ of it. Because he doesn’t _want_ to admit this, doesn’t _want_ it to be true, doesn’t _want_ to put it into words and confront it. “If. If I’m doing that. Then it’s my responsibility to report it. And to step down from the Guard.”

“Fox—”

“If I can’t control my own mind, then I can’t be the Commander of the Guard. If I can’t control my own mind, then I’m defective. And I won’t put brothers in undue danger just because I don’t want to be—” _decommissioned, reconditioned_ , “— removed from my position. I already have enough blood on my hands, Wolffe.”

He can tell, instantaneously, that Wolffe wants to deny it, wants to argue with him, is _about_ to argue with him, but... they both know he’s right. They both know that Fox is speaking the truth. If he’s a danger to his own men, he has to stand down before he gets any more of them killed.

“You should visit the Healers at the Temple,” Wolffe finally says, and he looks troubled, which is worrying all on it’s own. Wolffe has two facial expressions, and those facial expressions are annoyance and anger. Troubled is not one of them. Troubled has _never_ been one of them. “They probably could help. They’re not the aiwha-bait, at least, so you shouldn’t just disappear into a deep, dark hole if they find something interesting.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Fox makes himself admit, because Wolffe does have a point, and he doesn’t want to go to Kamino, but... the Jedi Temple isn’t just somewhere you can walk into without scheduling an appointment. And there’s something in his mind, some memory just out of reach, that’s telling him not to record his movements, something that’s warning him not to leave behind a trail. Which makes no sense, because the best defense a clone has if they’re accused of something is an airtight alibi, and the easiest way to have one of those is to have a record of all your movements.

“Could the Guard manage, if you had to take a leave of absence?” Wolffe asks, and the answer to _that_ question, at least, is a no-brainer.

“Absolutely,” Fox replies, and there’s no hesitation with it, no need to stop and think. He’s been preparing for the eventuality of his death for years. The Guard will be able to stand without him. “Stone could do it in a pinch, if worse came to worst, but he shouldn’t need to, because Thire is trained to do it, and he’s good. He’s really good.”

That is both true, and an incredibly large understatement, because Thire _is_ good. Thire is fantastic, and he’s achieved so much more than Fox could have ever predicted. There’s a reason he’s never regretted putting his cards on the too reckless, too self-sacrificing Lieutenant all those years ago. “ _But_ Thire is still new to being a Commander. And, he was supposed to have both Stone _and_ Thorn there to support him. I really would rather not just abandon him to, uh, to the wolves, now.”

Wolffe glares at him for that, which is fair, and Fox cracks a half smile, mostly because he doesn’t want to think about the fact that Thorn _should_ be here, and if he’s needling his batchmate for his name, he’s not thinking of who’s marching far, far away. If he focuses hard enough, he can almost pretend that they’re cadets again, that they’re on Kamino and that Ponds is about to snicker at the utter disgruntlement on Wolffe’s face.

If he focuses hard enough, he can almost pretend that he didn’t outlive his best friend.

“Go to the Healers.” Wolffe says, “They'll be able to help, and if you go to them, you won’t have to abandon your Commander to my pack.”

He rolls his eyes in response to that one, because it’s better than admitting that he’s pretty sure no one can help him, not even a _Jetii_. But he nods anyway, because Wolffe will get insistent if he tries to sidestep it, and he’s always been a good liar. "I'll think about it,” Fox vows, and his voice doesn’t waver, but Wolffe sends him a disbelieving look anyway. “I _will_ , I promise.”

6.

_Due to their innate malignant nature, these techniques are used almost exclusively by those who wield the Dark Side, such as the Sith, or Dark Jedi._

After ARC Trooper Fives was killed, when Fox was still reeling from what occurred that day, and it was only a combination of muscle memory and sheer determination that kept him functioning, the Chancellor summoned Fox to his office.

This is what he does not remember:

_“You intended to kill ARC-5555, Commander Fox. You know why your gun was not on stun. It was because you knew that you had to kill him to ensure my safety. There is nothing more to the story.”_

_“I... I intended to kill ARC-5555. My gun was not on stun because I had to kill him to ensure the safety of the Chancellor. There is nothing more to the story.”_

**Author's Note:**

> \- Ahhhh... sorry?
> 
> \- Listen, Fox just does angst SO WELL. SO SO WELL. What a sad lad. 
> 
> \- And yes, when I was talking about water and fire and stars, I was absolutely referencing this quote: "From water, you are born. In fire you die. Your bodies seed the stars." from Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Warfare by Jason Fry. That quote HURTS me, so I use it constantly. 
> 
> \- Come talk to me on Tumblr [@coruscantguard!](https://coruscantguard.tumblr.com/)


End file.
